Home » Just for Fun » Writers are ordinary people after all–believe me.

Writers are ordinary people after all–believe me.

I’m sure this week for those who attended, they’re talking about all the wonderful things about RT and what all they got to do. Well…today, I have three stories that happened to me while I was there (or shortly after I came home) that will make you shake your head and wonder why life is so unfair that I get all the weirdness and you don’t.

As a disclaimer, this has nothing to do with RT itself, just being there and on a trip.

A few months ago we moved into a house that had room for me to have an office. It’s wonderful. I no longer have to type at the kitchen table or on the bed. Unfortunately, with the market conditions around here, we can’t sell our house. So we’ve decided to make it into a rental. It was our first house and to two people at 19 and 20 it seemed like a castle when we bought it. A 950-square foot, dirt brown and slightly shaggy carpeted, green, orange, eggshell painted mixed with paneling, castle. Now, of course every castle has its flaws. About two months before we decided to look for a new house, I was sitting down to my desk to write, moved my foot and immediately felt my sock grow wet. Upon further inspection, the carpet was saturated. My first instinct was that we had a plumbing leak, but just to make sure it wasn’t that one of the kids spilled water, I just soaked up the water as best I could with old towels and interrogated them…

Turns out it WAS a slab leak. One that they couldn’t even work on until we were out. But a slab leak wasn’t the only thing that was wrong with the house. No, they had to redo a good portion of pipes, faucets, and other things I don’t really understand. Well, while we have people in the house doing repairs (repairs that would have to be done whether renting or selling), I suggested we hire an electrician. One thing is for certain when two “kids” go shopping for a house, they have no idea what the heck they’re looking for. It wasn’t until after we’d moved in and I went to use the hair dryer that I realized there was NO electrical outlet in the bathroom. Who looks for this sort of thing before buying? It’s a room and the house was built a few decades ago, not a century ago. Electricity comes standard, doesn’t it. Apparently not in the bathroom. So for more than six and a half years we’d have to run an extension cord from the bedroom to the bathroom to use a razor, hair dryer, curling iron, etc. So why not, let’s put an outlet in here for whoever moves in next.

It’s funny how such a simple thing turns into something so complex.

The electrician came over on the Sunday before I left for Kansas City and was supposed to be done that day so imagine my surprise when I get a call Tuesday night as I’m having dinner with a friend I hadn’t seen since last year at RT and the voice on the other end of the phone says, “Good news, the electrician will be done tomorrow. Your house almost burned down, but it was contained in the attic so you can’t see anything and everything is okay now. I gotta go, bye.”

Huh?!?!

As it turns out, the people who lived there before us had made a few repairs themselves. In the attic, they’d run all the ceiling fans off a series of extension chords that plugged into the same outlet. The exterior lights were added after the house was built and were wired with speaker wire… Most of the light fixtures had wires that weren’t covered and were just “taped” together. Around this heating element we had in the bathroom, all the insulation in the attic was charred where it had apparently caught on fire once or twice and put itself out on the insulation. The ceiling fan in the living room wasn’t even mounted correctly. Anyway, it was counted that there were at least 5 major fire hazards and the electrician was thoroughly surprised the house hadn’t burned down. What a blessing! It wasn’t a cheap repair, but it was a necessary one as so many old wires were replaces and fixed and up to code. We used to burn through light bulbs constantly. Now, I know why.

(The next two stories are more perky, I promise.)

Well, actually, I can’t promise that. This next one isn’t as scary as the last one, but it’s not rainbows and lollipops, either.

At 7am on Friday,  I got a text from my husband that read:

“I’ll go ahead and tell you now, Rhett (our dog) puked on your pillow this morning at 4am.”

Um excuse me what? How is that for a morning greeting?

I’ll be honest, I do not like the dog sleeping in our bed. In fact, when I’m at home, I don’t allow it. My husband, however, loves it so I wasn’t exactly surprised to learn the dog had been in the bed, but to have vomited on MY pillow. That goes too far. I once again, had to get on the phone, and get more details. Details I could have lived without, so I’ll spare you. Instead of ending the call with I love yous, it ended with me saying, “That pillow had better not be there when I get back” and his reply of, “Oh, you can’t even tell where it happened…”

Third less than flattering story is probably the most humorous, but it didn’t really happen there so much, more of when I got back.

I’m a procrastinator. I waited until the day before to pack and load my car. One of my essentials is: Megapurse. If you’ve ever heard me talk about Megapurse she’s more than just a purse, she’s like my right-hand woman. This purse is gigantic and can hold a few notebooks, my laptop, pens, loose papers, books and all sorts of other things and still close. She’s great. Bob calls it my mobile office. Anyway, I take Megapurse on all trips. Recently I took her with us to Houston and Galveston for my brother-in-law’s wedding reception. Another object that often travels with us is EneMan.

For anyone who hasn’t subjected themselves to my craziness for very long, I’ll scandalize you now when I say that EneMan is a stuffed, plush enema. Basically a stuffed animal, in the shape of an enema… It’s green, has an orange tip, and wears a cape that says EneMan. My husband worked for more than half a decade in colorectal surgery and was given this by a Fleet representative. Of course, it’s not exactly something you want your kids snuggling up with at night, so Bob decided to hang it from the rearview mirror in my car. Thus, it began traveling with us. As a joke, we started putting him in our family pictures (while on trips, not professional/Christmas photos, although…). Anyway, as the years have passed, he’s just become part of the travels.

And apparently he traveled with me to Kansas City. As a disclaimer, I didn’t even realize he was there, he purse is THAT big.

So I took him out and left him in the room as I carted Megapurse around the conference. I surely didn’t want that thing to be found. Then, it came time to leave. Though I didn’t think I’d acquired a lot of stuff and I did think I’d given tons of stuff away, I was wrong. I had tons of things to cram into my suitcase and boxes. It wasn’t until I got home and began unpacking that I realized I didn’t see EneMan…

Laugh all you want, but panic started to build as I tore through my suitcase and Megapurse, then to my swag boxes and he was nowhere to be found. How on earth would I explain to my husband and kids that I’d lost EneMan? By Wednesday, I was defeated. I’d searched high and low. He wasn’t in the car, he wasn’t in with my clothes, he wasn’t with my swag or the books I’d brought back. He was nowhere and I knew what I had to do: call the hotel.

Now, this isn’t an easy call to make in my opinion. How exactly do you word this, “Pardon me, sir, did one of the maids turn in a stuffed animal in the shape of an enema?” or “Has a fellow who goes by the name of EneMan been spotted around your hotel?”

Seriously, what kind of response am I going to get from the chap on the other end of the line? Is he going to laugh, be aghast, actually page the maids to ask if they’d seen a plush toy in the shape of an enema, hang up on me?

I pondered how to handle this for like two hours. I know, I know, I’m a mom so I’ve had my lady parts on display for the world as my son was born and I’ve had all sorts of bodily fluids on me at some point, I write romance books with intimate scenes and I even rode home with a tape measure with the words: Pecker Checker etched into the side. But, I just couldn’t swallow enough pride to call and ask the man at the front desk. But neither could I disappoint my boys (all three of them) who I hadn’t told yet.

I was in desperate need of some chocolate.

I’d brought a bag of assorted chocolate with me to RT (which no one except me and my roommate ate…), so I walked over to the bag where I’d put it and+ lo and behold as soon as I lifted the bag of candy out, what was looking back at me (and dared to be grinning) but that blasted stuffed enema!

I tell people all the time, I might write books, but I’m still an ordinary person. My house isn’t perfect, my dog vomits on my pillow and like most parents, I’d force myself to call a hotel to retrieve a lost toy–even if I’m the one who lost it–no matter how embarrassing it is to explain!

Well, on that note, I have a couple out in the middle of Indian Territory who are in need of some romance, so I’ll be off! Have a great Friday!

 

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17 thoughts on “Writers are ordinary people after all–believe me.

  1. Rose, thank you for your always amusing posts! Are you sure you didn’t live in my house?? Although we were in our 30’s, my hubby and I bought our first house without any real knowledge–or common sense. Our house was built in 1923, and even in 1996 when we bought it, it hadn’t been changed much since the previous owner bought it (in the 50’s, I think). We were just so happy we found a house we could afford, we were willing to somehow overlook some of the oddities of the house. Like the fact that there were no electrical outlets in the one and only bathroom. That the outlet in the hallway had a mysterious plug in it and it ran under the carpeting (a fire hazard–especially since it was a very old extension cord). That the entire house was carpeted–bathroom and kitchen included. That most of the rooms had drop ceilings. That the kitchen was extremely tiny–a galley kitchen that even had the clothes washer in it. That you could not open the back door all the way because the clothes washer was there. That the clothes washer would have to be moved out if we were to replace the fridge (yes, we did have to do that) and that would be a adventure all by itself. The fridge died the same day that the oil heater tank ran out of oil even though it registered 1/2 tank (all sludge). Being that it was January, it was actually warmer inside my dead fridge. It was a very expensive weekend–oil heater and new fridge cost us about $2,000 in 2003. It was a good thing that we had to remove the fridge, though. It gave us an idea of just how much work our house was in desperate need of. When we removed the fridge, I got to see my basement! Apparently, there had been a water leak and the floor was rotted under my fridge!! We now needed to replace the floor! I’m just glad we don’t live in an earthquake zone, or else my fridge would have been in the basement! One good thing about our house (that we no longer live in) is that if there were any spiders I didn’t see them (Yes, I am the crazy lady who told you about the Black Widow spider and the minivan…). Have an awesome weekend and Happy Mother’s Day, Rose!

    • If I told you all the things we’ve fixed over the years in that house, you’d be floored. Just a few:

      As we were moving in, someone informed us that the glass in the sliding glass door wasn’t up to code… Upon further inspection that night as we were locking up, we realized the sliding glass door was hung backwards–with the stationary piece inside and the moving piece on the outside, making it where it didn’t lock. For five years we had to live with a sliding glass door that didn’t lock.

      Paneling was installed in the house…but not correctly so mold formed behind it paneling.

      Carpet was originally in the bathroom, which was one of the first things removed (my son was only six months old, but I was fearful to leave it in there for when he started to learn to use the toilet). Once we pulled up the carpet, we found big tiles that were apparently put down with asbestos.

      The phone line didn’t work so we had to re-wire it (the phone company wanted to charge us like $600 to do it).

      There were other issues, so I wasn’t too shocked to hear that the electrical hadn’t been done correctly, just relieved it hadn’t burned down on us.

  2. I don’t know how i would feel if i found out the whole time i was living in a house that had fire hazards i had no clue about… so scary! Im glad nothing bad happened. And lol what a horrible spot for your dog to vomit. Just as gross as my cat (who i had to give away because my mom developed alergies) who urinated in the linen closet.

    • Yuck on the cat in the closet! Cat urine is one of those things that can stink for a long, long time.

      Our dog urinated on my shoe (with my foot in it) not too long ago. I was not a happy lady.

  3. LOL…awww you love to play tricks with my mood, don’t you. At first I was like “What?” then I was like”Oh my Gosh, really?” and then finally I was like” Hooray!” Good luck on your story 🙂

  4. The weirdest things happen to you. I’m so glad nothing serious ever happened because of your wiring. That could have been disastrous.

    The dog puking thing is funny to me. My husband gets so mad when I laugh about stuff the cats do. You know, like when they unroll a WHOLE roll of toilet paper.

    • Our dog does that to the TP but instead of just unrolling it he’ll start tearing it to shreds and strew it around the house. We now make sure to keep the bathroom door shut for protection of the TP and the underwear which he likes to eat…

  5. Oh my word…I hope your new house doesn’t have any of the pitfalls of your other house?

    Even though I’ve seen the Pecker Checker four times now, I still choked on my water when I read it in this post LOL I am amused by it so much.

    So glad you found EneMan! Though I really would have liked to hear you explain that to the front desk clerk had he still been lost.

    No wonder you didn’t tell us these stories in chat last night…we probably would have all died laughing. With you, not at you.

    • My new house shouldn’t. We were so poor and so excited we found a house in our price range the first time that we took everything at face value and didn’t to inspections. Huge mistake. This time we ordered every kind of inspection known to man.

      I’m so thankful I didn’t have to explain that to the front desk. I’d never be able to return to that hotel. EVER.

      Oh yeah, of course you wouldn’t be laughing at me…

  6. Wow! Nothing like that happened at all while I was gone, thank God. I swear, there is never a boring moment for you.

    I cried on your behalf about those repairs. That had to hurt your wallet. 😦

    Time to let your husband sleep with that pillow if he won’t buy you a new one. hehe

    As for enema, considering some of the stuff at the convention, that was one of the more innocent things at that hotel. LOL

    • LOL I’m glad your family was nice and calm and without event while you were away.

      It took until today, but I got some new pillows!

      I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face at your last comment. Indeed, you are correct.

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